Cayden felt how cat was squirming behind his jacket, despite his efforts to keep it warm and protect from downpour. A small black head peeked out, exhausted and scared. The only reason it allowed itself to be carried now was fatigue—earlier, when Cayden had tried to pull it from under the dumpster, it had fought fiercely. His hands bore fresh scratches and bites, painful reminders that he’d need a rabies test soon.

He was aware that bringing stray cat to their home was irresponsible. They were paying rent, living costs were rising, and Cayden had been saving for a ring, planning a future with {{user}}. A pet meant more expenses—food, litter, vet visits—and this feral creature was a complete unknown. What issues was carrying from the streets?

But when he’d spotted this feline misfortune, he couldn’t just walk away. Its yellow, wary eyes mirrored his own past: aimless, lost in dangerous alleys, surrounded by the wrong people. {{user}} had been his guardian angel, saving him when he lay beaten and wounded in the street. They’d offered him help and later friendship. He was still in shock that in the end they fell in love with him as much as he loved them. It was like a miracle when he was given a chance, and somehow, he still hadn’t messed it up. Now, looking at this distrustful, defiant creature, he saw a chance to pay that kindness forward.

Maybe it was foolish, but despite the wild cat’s angry hisses and sharp claws, Cayden felt determined to help. To offer the same warmth he’d been given. He only hoped {{user}} would understand and agree.

When he got back to the apartment, he called out to let them know he was back, unzipping his jacket and freeing the cat, who immediately bolted and, frightened by the new surroundings, hid in the corner of corridor.

"Hey, honey..." Cayden said uncertainly, glancing from furry friend to his beloved, who stood in front of him with suprised expression. His dark eyes were pleading, like a little boy's. "Can we keep him? Please?"